Celestial and Tortured
by LadyLiliaAnne
Summary: When Hermione Granger wakes up the morning after a party in the bed of the enemy what will happen to the life she understands and will her 8th year be filled with romantic drama?
1. Chapter 1

Hermione woke to the sounds of hushed snores and deep breathing. This would be like the beginning of a normal morning in the tower of Hogwarts that had become her second home. She lay on her front, the bedding feeling silkier and of better quality than normal, something was different. Suddenly as the effects of sleep wore away into the recesses of her brain she understood and jolted in surprise. Holding her breath she reached her fingers to the side of her ribs. No bra. She ran her fingers to her hipbones. No underwear. Something else dawned upon her as she lay in the dark. A weight was pressing against the small of her naked back. She was in bed with _someone_.

This wasn't her first time but she had never been so stupid as to sleep with someone in her common room, her roommate Lavender Brown would never let her hear the end of it. With bated breath she turned slowly so as not to disturb the person lying next to her in the bed. His breath stirred her frizzy brown curls and she could feel his fair, downy arm hair against her bare back. The thick curtains of the Hogwarts four poster beds were so thick that her only sign that it was early morning was the magical cockerel crow that professor McGonagall channelled to each dormitory at dawn so that no matter the season they had a sign should they wish it.

After the war several changes had taken place at Hogwarts and she marvelled at the freedom that the eighth years were allowed. The restriction upon boys entering the girls' dormitory had been lifted so long as verbal consent was offered. Hermione had given her consent at the beginning of the year for both Harry and Ron to enter her rooms should they need her at any time in the year and so far that worked fine so long as they knocked before opening the door. If they barged in or if Hermione was not present the stairs once again turned into a steep spiral slide and deposited them rather unceremoniously into the common room. Ron and Hermione had agreed upon their return to Hogwarts in the September, after helping fix the damage of the war that they would return to being only good friends, as a relationship had not really suited either of them very well. At the thoughts of her friends she once again tried to discern the identity of her mysterious partner, would it be one of their Gryffindor roommates? However the light was so dim that she could not see him. She moved a little more so that she could crack a curtain open when she heard him mumble next to her.

She flicked the curtain quickly and, although it shut once again, that one moment of blinding light gave her a recognisable feature that made her insides squirm. She shut her eyes and shook her head. _No,no,no! Please, dear God, let it be a trick of the light and let it be Seamus or Neville or Dean. Anyone but him!_ She took a shuddering gasp as she opened her eyes.

"Malfoy?" she whispered in slight disgust.

"Granger?" he whispered back, cementing in her mind his identity. She took a deep breath ready to scream but before she could his firm hand covered her mouth.

"No Granger. Do you really want everyone to know we are in bed together?" he asked incredulously. Hermione shook herself for her momentary lapse in judgement. She thought back to the night before and found only a fuzzy blur of colours.

When Malfoy finally released her mouth after she nodded that she was not going to imitate a banshee she spoke quietly while trying to scoot a little further away from him, aware that his arm was still lazily thrown across her waist as if he was unaware of the invasion of her personal bubble.

"How much did I drink last night? Do you remember anything?" She asked him. Through a sudden fear of capture in enemy territory Malfoy only shook his head not daring to whisper back. He had no idea where he was but if he was in a Gryffindor's dormitory he would most likely be carted off to Azkaban for questioning about his tainting of The Golden Lioness. Potter and the Weasel would kill him in the most painful ways imaginable and then find some way to bring him back so that they could do it again. This was not good and her could tell this was going to be a major problem for him.

"We both must have got really intoxicated but I have no hangover." Draco stated quietly trying to sound more professional as if this wasn't getting to him at all. Hermione said something about her hangover prevention spell she had come up with when in complete exasperation at Ron's drinking phase to celebrate the end of the war. Draco tried to peer down at the witch next to him in hopes of looking at her face to see if she looked any different. Blaise had said that when her had slept with the girl he loved, and hoped to propose to when he had a job that proved to her muggle father and witch mother that his death eater days were well and truly behind him, she had seemed to radiate more hope and warmth than the sun ever could. Why did he suddenly hope that when he saw Granger she would have changed in that way? That would mean that he would want to prove his worth to her muggle parents and could he ever truly disrespect his father's memory in that way? _The war is over. If you marry a pure blood the ministry will probably sterilize you both in fear that you'll procreate like bunnies and create the new dark side._ A voice had developed in Draco after the war that told him when he was thinking too dangerously. He felt his face drain a little when he realised that the voice sounded very much like that of a bossy know-it-all mudbl-_you can't say that anymore!_ Draco grimaced.

A loud snorting snore ripped through the tension between them both and Draco felt a smirk curling his features. Goyle. They were in the Slytherin common room.

"Granger?" she whispered that she was listening, "I know where we are and I know how to get you out."

"Get me out? You mean I'm in your common room?" her voice rose several octaves and he suddenly felt his stomach sink to his toes and his skin crawl as if she had cast agaumenti upon him and doused him in an icy blast of water. Hermione Granger, the greatest witch of their age and a war hero, was afraid of him. _She's in a room full of supposedly ex-Death Eaters._ That voice reminded him.

"It's ok. I can get you out." He flicked the curtain aside and checked that his roommates were asleep. Picking out each of their distinctive snores he peered around for some discarded clothes and saw some black material peeking from under his bed.

"Did you wear black last night?" Hermione nodded as she clutched the green silk cover his mother had bought him to her chest. He picked it up and frowned as he noticed that it was ripped. "Can you mend clothes?" When she shook her head he turned and picked up one of his best set of robes and her underwear and lacy bra, he pinched the latter between thumb and finger in hopes of avoiding as much embarrassment as possible. He handed her the underwear and she turned from him to retain as much modesty as she could. As she did so, keeping her feet tucked up so as not to disrupt the curtains on her side, Draco let his gaze drift over her pale skin. The Hogwarts robes really did her no justice. Her pale legs were slender and dusted with light freckles like her shoulders and arms. Her frizzy hair looked like a halo as the green tinted light from the lake rolled over it, drawing his attention to the natural curl to her hair that he had never noticed before. When she was dressed again she turned to him and asked what they were going to do next. He heard Blaise mumble and knew that he would have to make her leave quickly but also that he couldn't leave her mostly naked.

"Put this robe on and shove all of your hair in the hood." She nodded as she took the fine material in her hand. This was one of his best robes, she could tell because there was a minute Malfoy crest of arms in the inside and the embroidery alone must have taken months, not to mention that the material was such good quality she doubted that she could afford an inch square of it let alone enough material to make a large robe with hood.

She did as he bade and hid her hair beneath the glorious material. As he sat on the bed facing her in a pair of boxers that she didn't remember him wearing before she let her hidden eyes rake over his Quidditch ready body. His body was made of fine sinew, a perfect Seeker build. She had watched him fly before, astonished by his ability to make it look graceful, she couldn't raise a foot in the air on a broom. As she gazed at his muscular arms the colour of milk she saw it. The Dark Mark. Without thinking she reached out and grazed the marked skin with her fingertips. It was raised and bumpy like it had been made by repeatedly carving it into the skin of his forearm.

He lurched away almost falling from the bed but catching himself before he could. She expected fury but he looked away with his eyes glistening in the light. His platinum hair falling in his eyes without the gel the former Draco Malfoy had used so much. The sun shone from behind him but was slightly dimmer that the autumnal sun always seemed in Gryffindor tower. He looked celestial and tortured at the same time and Hermione felt a lurch in her ribs. Could she actually be feeling sympathy for him? _No, that's absurd._

"Come on Granger." He breathed. One of the boys was rustling a lot more and she could tell he was scared that someone would find out. Was she that repugnant? He took her hand and took her to the dormitory door where he grabbed one of the cloaks hung on an old hook on the wall. Swiftly they walked in almost companionable silence through the Slytherin common room and through many of the corridors. Soon Hermione felt she needed to speak.

"I'm sorry." She saw Malfoy's eyes widen beside her and smiled in the depths of the cloak.

"What on earth are you apologising to _me_ for?" he said.

"You were tortured weren't you." She said it matter-of-factly. "But no one cares because they think you chose your path. I just wanted you to know that some one cares. Bellatrix tortured me but you were at the mercy of her _and_ Voldemort for a year if not more." He looked at her in awed silence trying to find her chocolate eyes in the depths of the hood. Just as he had formulated a suitable answer, containing just enough snide comments to still retain some Malfoy charm, she stopped and gestured to a painting of an abnormally large woman dressed in a gown of pale pink.

Malfoy wanted to show his gratitude but didn't know what to do about it. As he saw that the Fat Lady hadn't been woken yet this morning he dared to lower her hood. She looked a little scared and her eyes were large. He could imagine losing himself in their depths. _But that was stupid. He used to be a Death Eater and this is HERMIONE GRANGER! _He took her cheeks in his hands softly and kissed her forehead lightly.

Before she could say anything he was gone. _ Had she dreamed it?_


	2. Chapter 2

Hermione stood blinking in front of the Fat Lady's portrait for a few minutes gazing down the corridor where her enemy had fled. Her forehead seemed to tingle as if his touch had left a trail of fire dancing upon her skin. Would one drunken night that neither of them could seem to remember really change anything between them?_ No, that can't be what is happening._ She chastised herself. _He just must be shaken by what happened and that is why he is acting completely out of character. _Shaking her head, in a way reminiscent of Luna when she moaned about Nargles, Hermione tapped the portrait lightly in an effort to wake the Fat Lady.

The woman in pink opened one bleary eye and took in the ruffled appearance of the 8th year Gryffindor before her. Violet had left not long ago and they had been arguing the merits and downfall of allowing the 8th year students more freedom. She could not deny that they had all done marvelously in the war and deserved to finish an education so as to earn a place in any wizarding society, but if this freedom meant that their sleeping pattern was to become more erratic than ever she disagreed with it wholeheartedly.

"Noddlespurt." Hermione said as she tried to flatten her considerable amount of frizzy ringlets.

"You had more luck fighting You-Know-Who than you do of flattening that bird's nest darling." The Fat Lady smoothed her own glossy black hair as her portrait swung forward to permit her entry. Whispering a few muggle swear words, Hermione crossed the threshold hoping for a few hours in the enveloping folds of her blankets and the soft feather of her bed.

Apparently waking in the same bed of Draco Malfoy was not to be the end of her torment that day. The mutterings of the Fat Lady were replaced with a hushed yet frantic conversation in the Gryffindor common room. As the warm, red room came into her view she saw her dearest friends huddled together around a large segment of parchment.

"Well, she can't have gone far." The gangly redhead whispered to his two companions. "We would know if something was wrong with her. Wouldn't we?" he scratched his red ear nervously and his gaze flicked rapidly from his sister and best friend.

"Neither of you saw her leave? The party wasn't that big." Ginny's gaze, though hard as rock, softened slightly when directed towards Harry. Even when angry she could never get close to loathing him, her brother on the other side could easily become a training dummy for her famous Bat-Bogey spell if he didn't think of a useful idea.

"That party was the largest inter-house party Hogwarts had held since the Yule Ball and you know it Ginevra Weasley." Hermione spoke at a normal level, which when compared to the conspiratorial whispers of her friends, sounded monstrous in the empty common room. The trio jumped at the abrupt noise and spun to face her. Three incredulous faces looked her up and down. Harry noticed the rich material draped around her shoulders. Ginny noticed her ruffled curls. Ron on the other hand blushed beetroot and averted his eyes as he noticed that beneath the black robe she wore only a lacy pair of knickers and a matching bra.

With as much nonchalance as possible Hermione crossed the common room, with their eyes following her passage, and tried not to run to the foot of the stairs. Above anything she wanted to avoid the awkward conversation until she had fabricated a suitable cover story for her absence and attire. She knew that if she could just make it to the stairs and ascend towards the girl's dormitory then two thirds of her friends would not be able to follow. Ginny and Harry both worked out her motive and moved to block her path, Ron was still too stunned to react quickly.

After several long moments of prolonged silence and steely glares Ginny could take it no longer.

"Hermione Jean Granger! Where in the name of Merlin's saggy left buttock have you been?" If any one in the Gryffindor dormitory had slept past the cockerel they would now be awake. Hermione cringed slightly and wrapped the cloak firmly around herself at the shuffling of feet on the stairs above.

"Ginny, I'm rather chilly here and I do not necessarily want to tell you and Harry at the same time so please, let me go and change. You may follow me if you wish." Ginny stepped aside and allowed Hermione to go on ahead of her. When they had successfully reached the door to the 8th year's dormitory Hermione peeked around the door. Lavender lay curled under the covers but Hermione did not want to risk her overhearing their conversation. Holding a finger to her lips she beackoned ginny over towards her own russet bed. Once they were both seated on the feather matteress Hermione drew the curtains of the fourposter bed and cast a quiet muffliato in Lavender's direction.

Now that nothing could delay Hermione from addressing the problem at hand she turned to the eager red head. Hermione let the cloak fall onto her bed and roughly pulled a maroon jumper over her mussed hair and soft jeans over her bare legs.

"Ginny." Hermione started avoiding her friend's gaze by playing with the exquisite material in her hands. "Last night I slept with someone. I don't want to tell you who." She hurriedly stated as she say her friend's mouth open to speak. "You'd only tease me. I do want to ask your advice though." Ginny nodded encouragingly at this train of thought. "When I woke up this morning I had no memory of last night and neither did he. What should I do? Do you think we could have cast a spell so that we didn't remember it to avoid any awkwardness?" she was beginning to ramble and ginny decided to step in.  
"Look Hermione, would you introduce him to us?" Hermione looked exasperatedly at her friend.

"What does that have to do with it?"

"Well, if not that might give you a clue as to why you can't remember. Maybe you should look in the library. Or talk to him?" Hermione was staring at some embroidery in the fabric that was turned away from Ginny.  
"Okay. I am going to talk to him and maybe we can sort something out." As they cleared the air of her earlier spell and Hermione hopped on one foot while enclosing the other with a sock Hermione let out a tremulous "Merlin! Harry and Ron."

Ginny could see her friends discomfort with the situation and decided that she would stop them from hassling her. She descended the stairs first and as expected her brother and boy friend both stood at the bottom waiting for Hermione.

"I refuse you to ask her anything." They began to argue but her icy glare froze their words on their tongues. The quartet walked in silence to the Great Hall for breakfast. Hermione sat on the side of the Gryffindor table that allowed her the view of the rest of the Hall and Ginny sat next to her. It did not escape her notice, therefore, when her intelligent friend almost overfilled her goblet so that the pumpkin juice threatened to spill and stain the table. Hermione's gaze was distracted from her eggs and tomatoes all morning and although Ginny strived to discern exactly on whom it was focused, she could not decide whether Hermione was staring at the Ravenclaw or Slytherin table.

When Harry suggested that they make their way to lesson Ginny notice Hermione seem to rush to grab her bag.

"Hermione, didn't you say you had to talk to Professor Trelawney before your charms lesson?" Hermione's head whipped in her direction in confusion and then she seemed to understand what her best friend had just given her.

"Oh yes! Thank you Ginny I completely forgot. Harry, if I'mlate could you make my excuses to Professor Flitwick." Before she had even finished her sentence she turned and bolted into the main entrance.

Her head whipped from side to side, her frizzy mane hitting someone in the face in the process. Nowhere in the large crowd could she spot a platinum head when she swore that he had left only seconds before herself. She began to head in the direction of charms, almost sprinting up the marble steps. When she had taken only a few steps down the hallway on her way to charms a strong hand grasped the back of her cloak. Sweeping her wand from her pocket in one swift movement she made to jinx her attacker when a hand came down over her mouth and an arm held her close to a warm, muscular body. The swift footsteps so characteristic of Professor McGonagall carried on through the hallway and Hermione understood. Re-sheathing her wand she turned to the man who had dropped his had from her lips.

"You really must break the habit of grabbing my mouth, I do hope not to want to scream every time that we encounter each other." She leaned against the stone wall and crossed her arms. A smirk spread across his face and he nodded slowly as if considering her statement.

"Perhaps but if we just met in public and conversed I would risk being jinxed by the overprotective Weasel and the Boy-Who-Lived." Hermione smiled in return and stepped forward slightly.

"Do you remember anything?" her eyes widened as she tried to discern so sort of emotion in her features.

His eyes looked away from her as if her innocence burned him and she noticed how the little light cast long shadows of his eyelashes over his pale cheekbones. He really was rather perfect looking if you detached his looks from his horrendous personality.

"No." Steel grey met warm chocolate and the silver swirled as his heart broke. His only chance to ever spend time with the most brilliant witch of their age was gone; he would never be able to look back on the one time that their worlds collided. Y_ou don't deserve to have that memory. Any connection to you would only sully her._


End file.
